A Page of Death's Journal
by A Jade Snowman
Summary: A One-Shot in Death's point-of-view on situations that have unfolded within the universes under his watch. Read and Review. Author's Note: I may write more if there is a particular topic people want me to write Death's point-of-view on. It depends on the popularity of this story.


You can't cheat Death.

At least, I think that's what the saying is now. There have been many forms of this statement since the beginning of time when the protozoa first discovered that they existed. The second notion that many of them were conscious of, was their will to live. To somehow find a way to stop me, even though they were not yet fully aware of what I was. The beings within the universe also discovered that avoiding their end was quite futile, because no matter what they did, I always somehow found my way to them. As their intellectual capacities increases, they tried more elaborate plans to hide themselves from me. They tried spells, screaming at the sky, creating medicines to cure illnesses, even freezing themselves in blocks of ice. Indeed it happens to be that most of the ways in which they tried to avoid me simply brought them closer to my grasp.

However, certain individuals through the ages have succeeded in avoiding me. Not forever, (nothing is allowed to exist on Earth forever, except me) but long enough to where they make a difference in the world. Not always a difference for the better, but just a difference. Their souls glow the brighter than the others, but also burn out in the most unpleasant of ways. Suicide and getting shot are among some of those. You name it, it has happened in some way. There was a man once called Fizban who died through suffocation after getting covered in millions and millions of chicken feathers. Well, he wasn't exactly a man, more an insignificant Pagan god from another universe, but that is a different story entirely.

The two men that have avoided me most recently are the two you have probably heard the most about. Or not, it depends on how much you are paying attention to the universe next door. Their names are Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester. The pair of brothers probably are the most annoying protozoa I have ever encountered, for the fact that they have sought me out personally _and succeeded in doing so_. Three times. I should not even start to explain the amount of times those two have tempted Fate without causing myself or one of my reapers to come for them. There is a reason the pair get special privileges, however. Even still, they were clearly supposed to die as the Apocalypse occurred, but they both somehow found a way out of that with the help of a fallen angel and an old drunk. (Well, and with my personal help too.) That worked out in their universe, though the one you come from is a bit less violent than that. It is also a much kinder place, with a God who cares. You would be surprised how lucky you are to have a creator who truly cares, as not all creators care as much as yours does.

Hmm? You think I would harbor some dislike for people who avoided me? Well, I do, but my respect for people who can avoid me outweighs my annoyance and dislike for that kind of people. If someone can avoid me, it means they are worth something. I pick up billions of souls across the _universes_ on a daily basis, only a few of them from the planet called Earth. The reason I respect Earth and favor it so much is because of the shear amount of people who somehow find a loophole around me. Also, because of their creation that is pizza.. and pickle chips. (They seem to have inherited their creator's ability to love their creations. I know I happen to enjoy their creations.) Humans are the ones who make the most progress, and are the ones who make things out of their lives. Their souls are the most beautiful in the universe, with their infinite complexities and wonders. As I think of complexities, a certain soul comes to mind.

The name of this soul was Clara. Actually, it was also Clara _Oswin _Oswald. Sometimes just Oswin Oswald as well. Yes, a woman. With the utmost respect, I have to admit that their minds sometimes tend to be much more jumbled than their male counterparts. Clara falls into an entire category all her own when speaking of the word _complex_. This takes place in a universe surprisingly similar to your own, but also different in quite a few details. They know they aren't alone in their universe. No two universes are the same.  
Officially, I have met her over a thousand times, but to this day she has still not _died_ like a normal person would. Her soul, for lack of a less cliché term, slips through my fingers. Every time I think her time is done, it isn't. That's what happens when you jump into a rip in the fabric of time, if you wanted to know. You get split into a million of different versions of yourself, and none of those little pieces are big enough for me to carry off of Earth. This is the moral of this story: don't jump into rips in time. Not all of you have someone around capable enough to put the pieces back together like Clara did. There isn't always a doctor capable of fixing you. There isn't always an angel who expressed interest in you.

You probably don't want to hear the ramblings of someone as old as I.  
If you find your 80-year-old elders boring, I couldn't even imagine how boring you find me, a being as old as time itself…


End file.
